


These Streets: Bits and Bucks

by Nejinee



Series: These Streets 'verse [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Beefy Bucky, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Humor, Love, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Random Fluffy Moments, timestamps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-03-26 06:54:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13852398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nejinee/pseuds/Nejinee
Summary: Little moments from the world of police officer Rogers and his Bucky.





	1. Snippet #1

**Author's Note:**

> These are prompts and snippets gathered from my [Tumblr](http://nejineee.tumblr.com). Just thought I'd gather them here for folks to read, and for safe-keeping. :)

The fluorescent lights gave off a faint hum, like mosquitoes buzzing continuously. The laminate floors shone bright after what was obviously a recent washing.

Bucky stared down at the rows upon rows of canned veggies, slightly grossed out, but determined. He hated canned foods. It reminded him of his rations, of overcooked, parboiled sweaty food of indiscriminate colours and textures.

But he needed tomato paste and a lot of it, so the canned stuff could do…He chewed his lip.

“Oh, Mr Barnes!” a singing voice rang out.   


Bucky blinked and turned. Who the fuck was grocery shopping at this godforsaken hour? What psychos made public appearances at places like this at this time of darkness?

“Ms. Page?” he frowned. Okay. Not a psycho. Maybe.

She was still in uniform and looked way too chipper for 3am. How was her hair still perfectly pulled back and neat? Bucky felt like he’d rolled out of a den of wolves.

“My, my,” she said with a friendly smile, “A little late for a grocery run isn’t it?”  


He cocked a brow at her from under his baseball cap.   
“I know, I know, pot, kettle,” she laughed, swinging her red grocery basket onto her other inner elbow. She had bread, eggs, milk, tampons, toilet paper and a bunch more basics. Was she doing a standard grocery run? Was this normal? 

“You just get off shift?” Bucky rumbled, putting a can of tomatoes back on the shelf. He shrugged his shoulders, stretching them.  
“Yup,” she sighed, “But I’ve got six days off, so yippee, you know?”

Bucky nodded. The silence of the grocery store was always eerie at this time. The store didn’t bother to play elevator music or anything either. So it was just the hum of the fridges and the lights bearing down on them.

“Um,” Karen said, “So…what’s–”  


Footsteps. Great. Bucky took in a breath, preparing himself.

“ _There_  you are. Jeez. They don’t have organic honey,” Steve blurted, barging round the aisle corner, arms laden. “Only gross golden syrup, so it’s gonna have to do. Not perfect, but beggars can’t be–oh. Karen. Uh. Hi.”  


Bucky didn’t turn, didn’t even acknowledge Steve. He just watched Karen’s face flick between surprise and recognition. “Rogers,” she said with a smile. “You’re here too.” Her eyes flicked towards Bucky.

Steve ambled over while Karen took in the sight. Bucky smirked.

“Uh, dressed down, I see,” she murmured. “Guess there is a normal guy under all that pomp.”  


Steve dropped his many grocery goods into the basket Bucky’d been hanging onto. “Yeah, well, you know.” Steve shrugged awkwardly at being found like this. He glanced down at the black sweatpants (Bucky’s), the faded sneakers and mismatched socks and the paint-splattered t-shirt (also Bucky’s) that he’d donned for what was supposed to be a covert late-night shopping mission that was now turning into an interrogation of Steve’s humanly values.

Bucky looked into the basket. 

“You got blueberries,” he rumbled automatically.  


“You don’t have to eat them,” Steve said, exasperated.  


“Fuckin’ hate blueberries,” Bucky grumbled. “Weren’t there any raspberries?”  


“No, just, look, it’s the middle of the night. We can’t have it all, Buck.”  


Karen was watching them with a look of what could only be labeled ‘avid glee’. Maybe she  _was_  psycho.

“You…uh, you boys planning something here?” she murmured, also eyeing Bucky’s basket. “A fruit salad, perhaps?”  


Bucky sighed like the woes of the world sat upon his shoulders. “Pancakes. This guys suddenly needs pancakes. No, he  _can’t_  wait til’ morning. He wants ‘em  _now_. Because he’s a grown-ass man and not a kindergartener with the appetite of a buffalo.”

Steve punched his shoulder. “Shut up, you want them too.” Like that was an insult or something.

“I want waffles,”Bucky groused, “But _someone_  broke the damn waffle-maker.”  


“Oh, for the love of–” Steve cried and rubbed his face. “I got the frozen kind, okay?”  


Bucky glared at him, “You think that’s a substitute? You’re a sick, disgusting guy.”

Steve looked about three seconds away from decking him at three o’clock in the morning down the canned goods aisle. Bucky loved it.

A snort made the men turn.

Karen was laughing into her palm. She snorted louder at the their looks.

“Okay, okay, sorry,” she sniffed, nodding. She tried to compose herself.

Steve looked at Bucky, then back down at her. “Why are you sorry?”

Karen shrugged, “I don’t know! This is cute, Cap! You’re cute! I didn’t expect to see this. It’s weird, and adorable. You two, out and about, dressing like schlepps, buying  _pancakes together._ It’s, it’s cute. Sam’s gonna love this.”

“Don’t–” Bucky began, but was cut off by Steve.  


“As your commanding officer, I am asking you not to share gossip about our private lives,” Steve said in a way that made Bucky kind of turn, eyebrows rising. Well,  _hello_.  


That only seemed to make Karen bust out into fiercer giggles.  


“I’m sorry,” she laughed, “I’m sorry, but that’s just even more adorable! I can’t take you seriously when you’re wearing sushi socks.”   


Steve was turning pink.

Bucky cleared his throat, “Uh, all right, it’s too early for this shit. Can we go?” 

Steve puffed out his cheeks and nodded. “Yeah, okay,” he said, probably grateful for Bucky’s famous lack of conversational etiquette for once.

“Oh, please don’t be mad,” Karen said, smiling up at Steve. “It’s nice, Cap. That’s all. I won’t tell Sam, I swear.”  


She was clearly lying through her teeth. But Steve sighed and nodded.

“Enjoy your time off, officer Page,” Steve said wearily, following Bucky down the aisle.  


“Will do!” Karen cried as Bucky hauled ass. He needed to leave. He hated people. People were awful.  


The cashier had glazed-over eyes and definitely did not seem bothered by the two men who’d shown up only to buy sweet breakfast treats in their pyjamas.

Bucky paid in cash while Steve packed their groceries into one of those canvas bags Bucky always forgot to bring because he  _didn’t care_.

“That’s what you get,” Bucky said minutes later, slamming the driver’s door shut and looking at Steve beside him.  


“What?” Steve frowned, his hair still a mess from their earlier activities. Bucky probably should have told the guy his sex-hair was out in public, but how would he have guessed they’d bump into anyone familiar? Best to keep that to himself.  


“Punishment for making me drive your lazy ass to get pancake mix,” Bucky said.  


“Oh please,” Steve rolled his eyes, “Like you wouldn’t do anything for this lazy ass. If I recall correctly, you’d ‘start a new religion and praise my ass all day and all night if you could.’”  


“That has nothing do do with grocery runs at fucking midnight,” Bucky said. He started the truck’s engine, revving it loudly in the pretty much deserted parking lot. He pulled the handbrake and paused, one hand on the steering wheel.  


“Hey,” he said, making Steve turn back to look at him.   


Bucky tapped his forefinger against Steve’s chin. “I’d praise that ass even without the threat of no waffles,” he said with a grin.

“Oh fuck off,” Steve pushed at him, turning red anyway.


	2. Snippet #2

Bucky was stacking empty pizza boxes in the school gym.

The teenage spring dance (whichever one it was) was as lame as they had been when he was a kid, except with shorter skirts, higher heels and a lot more selfies. Less gelled hair and oversized jackets too.

Why he agreed to chaperone this shit was beyond him.

Oh, right.

The reason was standing over by the DJ table feigning intense interest in Ice’s music setup.

Steve went all out, in a black suit and bowtie, like some kind of Bill Nye dork.

When had it become standard for police to shadow teenage hormone-rage-fests? The neighbourhood was bad, but not  _that_ bad. Right?

Bucky sighed and stood back in the shadows. He was in a black shirt and jeans and still felt overdressed. He'd been roped in against his will because not enough parents had come forward and he was considered a fucntioning member of the society because he worked at the Fire Department. What a crock.

All chaperones were in black, so at least they all looked like the unpaid staff that they were.

“Hey, you think there’ll be leftovers?” Natasha said, sidling up beside him. She was making the teenage boys in the room renounce every prayer of goodness they’d ever spoken to the local pastor. Her velvet dress was long and streamlined and perfectly tasteful, but it was Natasha…so, you know.   


“We’re not taking leftover teenage grub,” Bucky snorted and watched her rearrange the half-eaten pizzas on the plastic-covered table. Some godawful song played loud in their ears and a bunch of kids screeched in unison. Bucky didn’t have the best memories of high school, but he was pretty sure he’d never danced a whack-ass version of the salsa with his teenage friends. He’d been more surly and detached in that lame teenage angsty way.  


Natasha turned and nudged him with her elbow. She surveyed the room.

“So, any wild perversions going down on the dance floor yet?” she asked. “Do I need to whip out a crowbar?”  


“Please,” Bucky snagged a passing off-brand coke from a tray. He cracked it open and took a big swig. “These children wouldn’t know their dicks from their faces.”  


Natasha rolled her eyes at him. “You’re so crass, Barnes.”

“Hey, remember when we came to a dance?” Bucky smirked around the lip of his can.   
“Yes, unfortunately,” Natasha sighed over the din of dancing feet and howling teenagers. The strobe lights flashed green and the music changed into a throbbing bass beat.

“Unfortunately? Hey now,” Bucky said. “We had fun.”  


“Yeah, I really enjoy recalling the dorky awkward teenage version of you trying to cop a feel.”  


“Pfft,” Bucky snorted and watched Steve across the room. The man was weaving his way through some kids taking group selfies, like there wasn’t a dumb photo booth set up in the gym corner. “I was always slick. Suave, even.”  


“You sure were,” Natasha laughed. “But you probably shouldn’t be daydreaming about the first time we got busy when your man’s standing right over there.”

“Oh, you mean the idiot being accosted by a gaggle of teenage girls?” Bucky intoned wryly.  


He smiled as Steve was yanked into an uncomfortable pose, bent down so his face was at the same level as the fifteen year old girls giggling like fools with their iphones.

“So, what’s a decent time for me to roll out?” Bucky asked.  


Natasha eyed him. “Ten. We got clean up.”

“Oh, fuck my life,” Bucky sighed. He tossed his now-empty can in the nearby trash. “Can’t I just steal Steve and go make out under the bleachers?”  


“You know we don’t have bleachers at this school, right? We don’t even have a field,” Natasha said archly, arms folding across her chest.  


“I don’t hear a no…” Bucky hummed, eyes on Steve as the man walked over, finally catching Bucky’s gaze.  


“Keep it in your pants, idiot,” Natasha said, smiling as Steve approached.  


* * *

 

He was outside, mercifully free of the kids and the lights and the terrible music. His cigarette burned bright and he exhaled sharply upwards, trying to discern any stars.

He’d come back here when he was a kid, hung around with the bad kids. Well, they weren’t all bad, just morons, if he was honest. Oh how time and experience could change a man’s outlook.

He heard voices and automatically flicked his smoke aside, like Mrs. Gregory was still working here, stalking the school grounds. He stepped back into the closed doorway.

“This is the last of it?” Steve’s familiar voice followed.  


“Yes, sir,” Teddy said.  


The two appeared, rustling oversized garbage bags in their hands. The piles of trash were definitely building up. Bucky’d brought out four bags himself. He watched Steve and Teddy heave the bags into the dumpster specially booked for this evening.

“I see you got that dance you wanted,” Steve was saying, wiping his hands on his trousers.   


Teddy shrugged, “Yeah.” God, the kid was so transparent, Bucky could  _hear_  the oozy happiness leaking out of him. “I didn’t think Billy’d want to, but, you know.”

Steve ruffled the kid’s hair and chuckled. “You really like him, huh?”

“Yup,” Teddy breathed out, saying it like it was obvious. “He is the best. I think I even love him. Maybe. Not sure, but maybe.”

“Oh, wow,” Steve said, “them’s big words.”  


Teddy paused, stopping. They were almost back round the corner, so Bucky could only just see them in the dim lighting. He didn’t know why he was even listening. It was so dumb. He was a fucking grown-up!  
“Well, I mean, you love Bucky, right, Officer Rogers?”

Had Bucky been smoking, he would have probably choked.

Steve sort of rocked on his feet and rubbed at his hair, making a mess of what was previously a perfectly combed coiff. “Uh, well, yeah.” He said it like it was  _obvious._

Bucky felt his neck and ears warm. Jesus, he shouldn’t be listening to this shit.

“It’s kinda obvious, I mean, with you guys,” Teddy blathered on. “Me and Billy, we’re still kids. I get that. Maybe I’m dumb, but I think it’s love. Or something close. But I’m never gonna tell him that.”  


Steve was quiet a moment. “Why’s that?”

Teddy shrugged, “He doesn’t like mushy stuff. It makes him bug out.”

Steve nodded. “Hmm, yeah, I might know a thing or two about that.”

Teddy rubbed at his nose. “You…you ever told Bucky? I mean, ‘cos, I don’t think I’m gonna tell Billy…but, I figure if you guys–”

“No, actually,” Steve said. “I haven’t.”  


Teddy seemed to swallow, perhaps realizing he’d put two feet in it at once.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.  
  
“Sorry?” Steve asked with a laugh, “Why?”

“Well, I mean…” Teddy trailed off.  


“Look, hey,” Steve patted Teddy’s shoulder while Bucky held his breath and tried not to feel the dull, wet thud in his chest. “I get it. Bucky’s…well, he’s Bucky.”

“Yeah, but–” Teddy began.  


“Hold on,” Steve placated him, “Let me finish.”  


Bucky wasn’t sure he wanted to hear this horrifyingly disappointing story.  
He felt a little ill. Love? Love was a lot. Love was…easy. But it also wasn’t, at all. Did Steve worry about this kind of thing? Of course he would! Bucky knew this every time they finished having sex, or finished a phone call late at night. He should be ending every conversation with some kind of affectionate…thing, right? He chewed his lip. But that wasn’t realistic. At all. I made his hands sweat and his stomach roll.

“Bucky’s not like everyone else,” Steve went on. “Bucky’s unique, right? And we both know that. What he and I have got, it’s super important, and yeah, I love the ever-lovin’ crap outta his dumb ass…but it doesn’t mean we gotta say it.”  


Teddy just radiated sympathy. “But…officer Rogers…Don’t you  _want_ him to tell you he loves you? I’d want to know if Billy did.”

Steve smiled in the dim lights bouncing off the faded brick wall of the school building.  


“Not everybody’s the same, kid. Look, here’s how it is: I don’t need Bucky to  _tell me_  he loves me.” Steve tilted his head. “I just need him to love me. Saying it doesn’t make it more valuable, not in our case. If it’s something that makes him uncomfortable, then I’m not pushing it.”  


Bucky’s throat felt tight as he struggled to swallow.

Teddy nodded slowly. “Yeah, okay.”

 

* * *

“Oh God, Buck,” Steve gasped, sweat covering his skin as he came.  
Bucky panted, licking at every piece of skin he could touch. He’d taken Steve apart good and slow, from the minute they got in the house to this second here, he’d spent it lavishing as many kisses and caresses as he could onto Steve. “W-we got work in…like,” Steve panted, head flopping back on the pillow. “Four hours.”

Bucky kissed Steve’s collarbone, then up his neck. His eyes met Steve’s and he pecked those pink, gasping lips. 

“Did I do a good job?” he purred.  


Steve frowned, “You mean at the dance? Or here?”

Bucky just grinned, making Steve roll his eyes.

“Yes, all right. Mr. Barnes, you blew my mind. A _gain._  You are an excellent lover and chaperone, but not at the same time.”  


“Good,” Bucky kissed Steve, slow and purposeful. He stared down at this man, this beautifully crafted, sweet and generous guy. “Because you deserve to be loved on. Every day. All day.”  


Steve blinked up at him lazily. “Okay. I’ll take that.”

Bucky stared at him. 

“Buck?” Steve murmured. “You okay?”  


Bucky shifted, settling himself on top of Steve. He pushed at some stray hairs that were sticking to Steve’s forehead. “Yeah, I’m good,” he murmured and kissed Steve deeply.

Steve groaned into it. 

Bucky was good. Steve was  _great._  And Bucky had time still to figure himself out. If only because Steve was so patient with him.


	3. Snippet #3

“Ugh,” Steve groaned and tried to get away from it. Away from the heat and the smothering sensation of someone in his be– “wha?” he blinked and flipped over sharply.

And holy hell on a hot wheel® hot rod, Bucky had actually stayed over this time (!!).

The other man was splayed out on his back, arms spread, shirtless and glistening with sweat.

It was too hot for the blanket, as Steve’s body had obviously realized hours ago, judging by the way the blanket was piled up between him and Bucky, leaving Steve’s skin free to calm down in the warm summer air.

Bucky’s body seemed to be working its way there, though. He was getting all pink in the cheek and down his neck, along with the sweat he was all but swimming in. The man’s dark hair was damp against his forehead and coming out of the knot he usually tied it up in before bedtime. Steve always loved watching Bucky’s bedtime routine:

  * Brush teeth
  * lay on the clinical strength deodorant (because Bucky Barnes has no fear of possibly life-altering chemicals, but does have a fear of sweating through his gear the next day)
  * Then roughly pull his hair back into a bun of sorts. He didn’t call it a bun, but it was totally a bun.



Steve heard about the way his colleagues’ and friends’ girlfriends would leave random hair ties and clips and barrettes and stuff lying around. Some of his fellow cops joked it was about laying down territorial markers like, ‘’Ey, this guy’s place is mine. And the guy too, I guess’.

Bucky never left anything lying around. Steve was pretty sure he had to have a stash of hair ties somewhere, but Bucky never had extras on him. He was always snapping them, then frustratingly pushing his hair away from his sculpted, sharp features like some damn Vogue model in a black and white photoshoot. And it drove Steve bonkers. Like Bucky was unaware how goddamn sexy he was. How stupidly hot he could be. How simple gestures would make his arms bulge and when he bent over, how his jeans would snug up against that ass. Infuriating.

Sure, Bucky was a hotshot once in the bedroom, but it was the other shit that got Steve riled up in the worst moments and with the worst spectators.

Like at the local ballgame. How Bucky’d eaten that damn popsicle like some … some… floozy! Natasha had ribbed Steve for days about the look on his own face, watching the beefiest, most dangerous dude on the block sucking on a bright red popsicle in the glorious Brooklyn sunshine without a care in the world.

But here, in Steve’s bed? Bucky was just like everybody else. Bucky Barnes snuffled in his sleep. Once, he’d drooled on Steve’s pillow. Another time he’d held on so tight that Steve ended up late for an early shift because Bucky was a creepy octopus in his sleep too.

And sometimes, like today, he was just sweet and sweaty and normal.

Steve scooched closer until he could lay his head on Bucky’s shoulder, the other man’s arm under his neck. Bucky snuffled. Steve bit his lip in a grin. It was still hot in his bedroom. He really needed to get a better air conditioner. The one in the window pretty much puffed out dust and mites exclusively, he was sure.

Steve slid in closer, feeling the tackiness of Bucky’s skin against his own. Five minutes ago this had been unbearable. Now, he just had to get close. Bucky smelled like himself. He wasn’t a cologne user, so it wasn’t like Bucky had a distinct fragrance about him. But he did smell unique. Especially right now.

“Unh,” Bucky grunted, frowning in his sleep. “St’v. ‘S hot.”

“Sorry, what was that?” Steve chuckled. Bucky’s little frown lines were so cute.

“Nooo,” Bucky whined softly, and pushed at Steve’s face. “‘S hot, St’v.”

Steve gently kissed Bucky’s neck. He slid his other hand down the expanse of Bucky’s chest, gently trailing and weaving around the many muscles and dips and valleys.

Steve felt a rumble rise in his own chest as his eyes followed his fingers down…down.

He slipped his hand under the blanket piled around Bucky’s hips.

Bucky breathed in softly, but didn’t wake.

Steve watched those pink lips, that face, for any and all reactions.

“Steve,” Bucky murmured, then rolled suddenly, twisting Steve’s wrist at a weird angle and bonking his head into Steve’s rather overstated nose.

“Ow,” Steve hissed and pulled back. “Shit, ow!”

He rubbed his nose while Bucky resettled, half on top of him.

Oh God, this wasn’t going to work at all. It was too warm and they were both sweaty and Bucky was ignorantly still asleep like some idiot. And now Steve was overheating, his eyes were watering because his nose was screaming and it kind of made him ill and his tummy was curling in his gut.

“Mrrrmh,” Bucky rumbled, heaving a leg over Steve’s hip.

Steve blessed all the saints in heaven when Bucky’s knee narrowly missed nailing him in the nuts. “Okay, no, this is too much,” Steve said and tried to extricate himself. “This isn’t romantic, and it ain’t cute.”

“C’m’n,” Bucky mumbled into his neck. “C’m’n, baby. Let’s m-may-kowt.”

He was definitely not awake. Was this this Bucky’s sleep slurring?

“Oh, come on,” Steve whined, pulling at the hand currently curled around his ribs. It held fast, even seemed to grip tighter. Steve squealed as the fingers dug into his very sensitive, super ticklish ribs. Steve couldn’t stop it. Bucky shot up suddenly, awake and wide-eyed, hair a mess.

“Th’ fuck whazzat?” He said loudly, his voice scratchy.

“Nothing, nothing,” Steve said softly, pulling away. “You, uh, poked me.”

Bucky blearily looked down at the strange sight of Steve trying to slowly roll away. Bucky frowned. “Izz too hot, Steve.” he grumbled, almost angrily. “Yeah, it is,” Steve rolled further, like a turtle trying to right itself. He almost made it, facing the wall, before a strong, big arm grabbed him and yanked him close, slamming his back against a broad, firm, sweaty chest of muscle.

“G’ back t’ sleep,” Bucky rumbled, and settled almost immediately back into a sweaty, calm slumber, his arm pinning Steve to him like a vice.

Steve stared at the wall.

Damnit, he couldn’t even get his phone from here.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's not good with teenagers and their feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written for Haspel-and-berry on tumblr, a gift. :)

“Hey,” Bucky grunted, heaving firewood onto the truck bed. He turned to meet the person staring at him.

Kate just stood there, arms crossed, her mismatched mittens peeking out from under her elbows. Her floppy knitted hat was drooping in the cold air.

He paused after loading up some more wood, then wiped at his forehead. “Uh, you here for Clint?” he asked.

“No,” Kate shook her head.

They were outside, Bucky squinting, the street lamps having only just come on. 

“Well, uh,” Bucky breathed, frowning. “Are you looking for Nat?”

“No,” Kate said.

Bucky rubbed a work glove over his itchy nose. The sawdust was not being tempered by the cold, damp air.

“Well, come on, kid, help me out a little,” Bucky said, throwing his hands up. “They’re at the store right now.”

“I want to talk,” she said abruptly. “To you.”

Bucky paused, blinking slowly at this whip of a teenager.

“With me?” he asked warily. Kate rarely spoke to him. She was the quieter one of the dynamic duo, the one who thought things through, who was always reading, or peering at folks from behind oversized sunglasses. She did not talk to Bucky. She didn’t much talk to anyone.

She reminded him of Natasha’s goth phase back in the nineties; back when Natasha was also just a teenage bucket of hormones sloshing around like the rest of ‘em. Before she acquired a sense of self, of course.

“Uh, okay,” Bucky stood up. His back was aching a bit after all the work he’d done throughout the day. Moving Steve’s furniture while the guy was at work had been a real pain in the ass, but building the new stupid TV cabinet had been worse. He hated allen keys. “What you need?”

Kate shrugged and frowned. Oh God, she looked unhappy. Bucky didn’t know what to ask. He was shit with kids.

“America,” Kate began, then huffed. “I’m … we’re…”

“Oh, is this whatever it was that got you two fighting?” Bucky asked. He leaned against the truck.

“How do you know?” Kate looked up sharply. “Was she here already, talking–“

“Nope,” Bucky said, and tugged out his pack of smokes. He tapped one out and flipped it to his lips. He dug in his back jeans pocket for the small lighter he’d swiped from beside Steve’s absurd bathroom candle collection. He lit up, puffed for a second, then flicked the lighter into his palm. “Teddy and Billy said you guys got real loud at school. Said almost everyone saw you two fighting.”

“Oh God,” Kate rubbed at her face. She was definitely the more socially concerned part of the America/Kate diva duo. America hadn’t said shit to Bucky yesterday about the fight, so he hadn’t asked, and she hadn’t behaved any differently either. Kate was wearing a bit more of her heart on her sleeve here, so it musta been big. “We totally made a scene.”

“So I hear,” Bucky said, exhaling up and out into the night air. Here was where he should be taking after Steve: asking questions, poking his nose in, being rude. He didn’t want to. But the kid had clearly come over here explicitly to see him. Why, Bucky didn’t get. He wasn’t any kind of teenage-whisperer. 

He watched her rub at her face, clearly almost as uncomfortable as him.

Kate wasn’t like America. She’d been burned already by the adults in her life. She’d been working her way through the foster system her whole life, only settling into this neighbourhood a few years ago. Bucky knew she’d had it rough for a really long time and that it was Clint who had her open up and take to the community. Hence why she stayed. Getting America was probably more than she bargained for, which the adults liked to joke about sometimes.

“You wanna talk about it? Or just watch me smoke?” Bucky grunted. He offered her the pack. She glared at him. 

“You gonna die of cancer,” she said.

He shrugged. “Gotta die one day.”

“Can’t believe you just offered me a cigarette. Ugh,” she folded her arms back up. “Okay, look. We were fighting because I called her out on something. And I think she doesn’t get it. She’s being selfish.”

Bucky’s brows flew into his hair. 

He didn’t say anything, just sucked on his cigarette. Kate glared at him some more, like he was dragging information out of her under knifepoint. “So you heard what her plans are, right?” Kate blurted.

“Plans?” Bucky frowned.

“Yeah, her _plans_ ,” Kate said, exasperation tinging her voice. “Her big, super-fly, crazy huge plans! Her plans to fuckin’ take over the world or whatever.”

“Nope,” Bucky said. “Ain’t heard that yet.”

Kate sighed loudly and strenuously in a way that only teenagers could: full of angst and annoyance. Like it was Bucky’s fault he couldn’t read her mind.

“She said she wants to go to college. Become some big hotshot,” Kate said loudly. 

Bucky blinked. “Oh yeah?”

“No, not yeah! Not okay!” Kate blurted, “It’s not–it’s not okay, Bucky!”

He frowned. “Why?”

“How’s she gonna do that? How’s she gonna find the money? From her imaginary inheritance? She’s gonna what? Work at the craft store for twelve years to pay off the insane student loan the government might be willing to burden her with? She’s gonna haul ass to fuckin’ Chicago or somewhere and break her brains thinking she’s gotta do this? Why’s she being crazy? Why’s she not rational about this? She can’t fuckin’ go! It’s not something us guys get to have, you know? I mean, _you know!”_

She waved a hand wildly in Bucky’s direction.

He waited a moment before responding.

“I know?” he said.

“Yeah…” she petered off. “You know it ain’t that easy.”

Bucky frowned, “You sayin’ she shouldn’t be aiming so high?”

“Exactly,” Kate sighed. “It’s crazy.”

“Is it?” he answered. “‘Cos I don’t see why not.”

“She can’t afford it,” Kate said matter-of-factly. “She can’t do it.”

“Oh, she totally can,” Bucky said. “We all know that kid. She’s gonna stab God himself in the face if he looks at her wrong and tells her she _can’t_ do something. You know that.”

“No, I mean _realistically_ ,” Kate huffed, slamming the edge of her palm into her other hand matter-of-factly. “Her dreams ain’t gonna be fulfilled by _the Man_. She’s getting her hopes up. You gotta tell her. She listens to you. It’s just …dumb.”

Bucky puffed at his smoke a bit.

“Are you sayin’ you guys had a fight ‘cos she wants to go out there and bust ass, fulfill her dreams and she shouldn’t?”

Kate scowled at him. God, she was still really a kid, with a look as petulant as that.

“Or is it ‘cos she’s leaving,” he finished. “And you don’t want her to go?”

The colour drained from Kate’s face. “That’s…not it, _Bucky._ ”

He stood up, dropped his cigarette, and stubbed it out with the toe of his boot. “You know, you _can_ go with her,” he said. “You’re not shackled to Brooklyn.”

“No, I can’t,” and her voice sounded plaintive, hurt. He looked up and met the sad, familiar face of a teenage kid who was having her heart torn out. “I don’t have the grades, I don’t got the money, and I don’t wanna go to, like, _Chicago_.”

Bucky felt his own black, dead heart soften.

“Hey, kid, come on,” he murmured. “You got yourself a girlfriend that would bash villains’ heads in for stickin’ up the local bodega. You also have a good head on your shoulders.”

“No I don’t,” she said forcefully. 

“Yeah, you damn well do,” he said. “Honestly, I’m not surprised she wants to go. She’s too big for this place. She’s gonna do it. But she’ll need you, you know. Can you seriously imagine that Latina cannon let loose on another city? You gotta be real.”

“I am being real,” Kate said, “That sorta stuff ain’t for people like us, like me and her. We can’t make it.”

Bucky snorted. “You serious? You guys had a big dumb fight because you’re scared she’s gonna fly off into the sunset without you?”

“That’s _not_ what I said,” Kate harrumphed back.

“Well, it’s what I heard,” he tilted his head and shrugged.

“You’re fuckin’ terrible at this,” she said sharply. “America always says she comes to you for help. You suck.”

He shrugged again, lips turning up on one side. “I never said I was some life guru, kid.”

“Well, it’s not helping!” she said. “What would you do if Steve fuckin’ decided his future was in another city? That he’d always planned to leave home, go out and maybe never come back?”

Bucky made a face. “You know he’s a grown man with legs and a brain, right? Nobody has ahold on anyone else’s life. You gotta know that by now.”

“Exactly!” Kate wailed, voice breaking. “And I can’t stop her!” She covered her eyes and a shaky sob escaped. Oh _no._

“Hey, hey,” Bucky stepped up to her, “come on, don’t get all riled up now.”

She fell towards him, pressing her hands and face into his chest. “It’s so dumb!” she muffled loudly, sobbing into his jacket. “She’s so dumb!”

Bucky put his arms around her, aware of how rare this was: Kate showing anyone any kind of soft side.

“Hey, look,” he murmured. “Have you even asked her if you can just go with?”

Kate shook her head, shouwlders shaking,probably smearing snot and tears on his clothing. He sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Fuck, kid, you gotta talk to her. I know neither of you’s bigger’n a bean sprout, but you’re almost adults, you know. You gotta be honest.”

She snuffled loudly and pulled back, wiping at her pink nose and wet eyes. Crap, Bucky was too weak for sad faces.

“But I was never in her big stupid plan,” Kate blubbered. She snuffled and wiped at a tear making its way down her cheek.

“Kate,” Bucky took her by the shoulders and stared her down. “America has never, ever had a plan for anything. It’s a miracle she’s still alive, to be honest. The way she pisses people off and goes storming into danger all the time? Come on. She’ll definitely need you. You can be her planner.”

“But we’re only eighteen,” she sniffed. “We ain’t shit.”

“Yeah?” he said, “Well look at me. I ain’t shit either, but I got most of my life together. Just takes time, is all.”

“You’re not _shit-_ shit,” Kate said. “You’re amazing.”

He blinked at her. No one ever said stuff like that to him.

“Uh, okay,” he said. She pulled away, wiping at the wetness on her face some more before clearing her throat and standing up straighter.

“Okay, whatever,” she said. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“Uh huh,” Bucky stepped back to give her some breathing room. “You done snivelling all over me?”

She glared at him, full force. _There_ it is.

“I take it back, you’re total shit,” she said, voice still clogged up.

“Atta girl,” he smiled.

 

* * *

“Ummm…” Steve said a few evenings later,coming back into the living room. Bucky was sprawled on the sofa, easing into a nice long weekend just the way he liked. “You got a package.”

Bucky snorted, “It’s all yours, pal,” he grunted, not looking away from the TV.

Steve sighed and flopped onto the sofa beside him. “No, you ass, I mean this was on your doorstep when I went to haul the trash to the curb.”

He dropped a box on Bucky’s lap. Bucky blinked down at it. It was just a nondescript brown box with tons of tape holding the badly damaged seams together.

“No label,” Steve murmured. He stared at Bucky. “You gonna open it, or what?”

“Is it from you?” Bucky eyed Steve warily.

“I swear to God,” Steve rolled his eyes, “just the _thought_ of a present from me sends you into friggin’ fits. _No_ , it’s not from me, Buck.”

Bucky sighed and pulled the box closer. The two of them took turns picking at the layers of weirdly coloured tape.

Finally, Bucky was able to just wrench the cardboard, breaking the tape’s hold. The box tore and a sea of gold, green and blue glitter _poured_ out all over his lap, hands, arms and legs.

“Agh!” Bucky squawked and jumped.

“Oh God!” Steve yelped, “Don’t move–wait…Bucky…”

“Shit!” Bucky barked, leaping to his feet. “FUCK.” He yelped, “What the fuckin’ hell is this? Some weird-ass late Halloween bullshit?”

Steve was trying to grab at him, “Keep still, you idiot. You’re getting it everywhere…ugh. Now it’s on the fuckin’ rug and all over you.”

“Augh!” Bucky growled, tossing his hand, unfortunately pouring even _more_ glitter over himself. “Shit!”

“Oh, a note!” Steve bent over, getting a flush of sparkles all in his hair, because he was a dumbass. He pulled at the rainbow-coloured piece of paper, and Bucky felt his stomach sink a little.

“ _To Bucky,_ ” Steve read, still tugging at Bucky’s sweats to get him to sit down. Bucky just glared at his very existence. “ _Thank you for being annoying and irritating and no help whatsoever,”_ Steve went on. _“Thanks to you, I’ve been looking into the scholarship process and how many community hour projects will be needed to accomplish this stupid mission. Now I have a huge list of annoying things to do that have nothing to do with my future, but somehow are v. important anyhow. So now that I’m writing lists in my bullet journal about more essays and more ass-kissing, and more ways to score extra cash, I thought you’d enjoy this shower of sparkles and unicorn crap all over your life. Consider it a warning._ ”

Steve paused and frowned. “It’s signed with a skull smoking a cigarette?” he eyed Bucky. “And something…   
‘ _P.S.: I picked the one thing to give you that I figured you’d hate more than anything else. Enjoy.  
P.P.S.: The glitter is organic seaweed so it’s not dangerous to rub some all over your boyfriend’s stupid face.’_ ”

Steve pouted and then nodded. “What did you do?” he asked, looking Bucky over. “And why am I involved?”

“I _helped_ ,” Bucky groused, setting the box aside. “How is this a gift of gratitude?”

“Hmm,” Steve hummed and looked them over. “This stuff’s gonna get everywhere. Where do you even buy this much glitter?”

“She probably lifted it,” Bucky grumbled, wiping at his shirt where oodles of glitter had pooled. It was sticking to his every patch of skin.

“She?” Steve raised a brow.

“Hush, officer,” Bucky sighed. He looked at Steve, with glitter in his hair and, somehow, some on his nose.

“Do I wanna know?” Steve asked.

“It’s boring,” Bucky sighed.

“Barnes, did you do something _nice?”_ Steve asked, peering at him. 

“I said, shut your face hole, Rogers,” Bucky insisted, swiping his palm across Steve’s cheek and leaving a trail of mermaid colours in its wake.

“Oh my God, you totally did,” Steve grinned. “You always avoid talking about when you’ve been nice.”

“If you keep nagging me, I ain’t letting you suck my dick tonight,” Bucky said.

Steve grinned. He looked like a damn fool.

“Your eyelashes are twinkling at me,” Steve snorted. “So I feel inclined to ignore that comment. You’d never say no to a blowjob.”

“Urgh!” Bucky got to his feet. “I need to shower and get this fuckin’ shit off me.”

“But it’s cute!” Steve cried, watching Bucky go. “You can get a head start in drag, Buck! You know that’s something you wanna get into!”

“We’re not having this conversation again, Rogers,” Bucky growled, leaving the living room, a trail of glitter floating behind him.

Steve snickered some more.

“You want any company? I can light some candles!” Steve yelled.

Bucky scowled and rounded the staircase, wondering how much of this crap the vacuum would be able to pick up.

“Only if you’re gonna help scrub,” Bucky groused, barely audible.

He heard a loud, “Ooof!” and the thundering of feet as Steve came jogging out the living room.

“Well,” Steve laughed, sprinkling more glitter on the floor like some kind of bizarre elf. “I mean, if you need the _help._ I have extra hands for helping.”

“Shut it, Rogers. Let’s go,” Bucky grabbed the other man by the front of his shirt and dragged him up the stairs, intent on ridding his every cell of this intolerable sparkly shit.


	5. Snippet #5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve needs something. Now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating has gone UP.  
> I don't even know, guys. Smut ahoy!

Bucky’s front door slammed shut, rattling the walls and echoing around into the kitchen.

He looked up, then at the clock. 8pm.

_Okay._

He pushed at the massive dough ball on the kitchen counter, running the heels of his hands through the floury ball.

“Steve?” he said loudly. If it was, in fact, an intruder they’d have to wait until he got this dough in the fridge.

“Fuck,” he heard Steve grunt. _Okay, good._ A couple more thuds followed from the front hall. Boots getting tossed aside. Rustling of slidey fabric and then another curse.

Bucky rolled the dough some more, frowning at it. He wasn’t much of a baker, but he figured this would be cheaper than buying a ton of slider buns in the morning.

Stupid local church charity runs. He doesn’t even _go_ to church. America just bullied him into this. Why did he let the teenagers do this to him? He’d already over-estimated the amount he should make.

The ball of dough was very large. He eyed the ceramic bowl he’d chosen to plop it into.

“Fuck,” he muttered and hefted it. The dough landed in the bowl with a thud, blobbing over the sides.

“Steve,” he said, “You got any bigger bowls at your place?” He pushed at the dough. How was it gonna expand like this? “I fucked up.”

Steve finally made an appearance. His uniform shirt was undone, hanging open over his pale grey t-shirt and uniform pants. The gun belt was gone, and his socks were mismatched.

He stood in the kitchen doorway, face all bent out of shape.

Bucky’s brows rose of their own volition.

“Bad day, pal?” he said.

Steve looked him up and down. “You’re baking.”

Bucky held up his doughy fingers. Obviously.

“You look...uh...pissed?” Bucky said, picking at a particularly sticky piece of dough stuck between two fingers.

“I am,” Steve grunted. He was staring at Bucky’s bare feet. “Suspect’s evidence got contaminated by a damn rookie lawyer. Now we gotta start fresh on new evidence ‘cos the judge has thrown it out.”

“Oh, damn,” Bucky said, frowning. “Want me to go plant some evidence? Bloody revolver? Kilo of coke?”

He grinned wide at Steve’s annoyed look. At least he was making eye contact.

“Don’t even joke,” Steve said roughly, coming into the room. He glared at Bucky’s dough. Okay, it’s wasn’t _perfect_ but sheesh, judgy much? “What are you making?”

“Buns,” Bucky said, flexing his sticky fingers. He shrugged. Steve was still glaring. “What’s the matter?” Bucky sighed.

“Nothing–” Steve bit his words off. “I mean. Obviously something. But it’s not–” he chewed his lip, then ran a hand through his hair, making the blonde locks puff up like a cockatoo. How criminals took this guy seriously Bucky would never know.

“Aw, come on, pal,” Bucky said, yanking at the saran wrap. He rolled it over the bowl, pushing the dough back in as much as he could. He patted the plastic down. It would have to do. “Tell Uncle Buck what’s really on your mind.”

“Oh please don’t call yourself that,” Steve sighed. “Are you gonna wash your hands?”

Bucky looked up.

“Uh? Yeah?”

“Okay, good,” Steve nodded. “Do it now.”

Bucky cocked a brow. “Excuse me?”

Steve came up to Bucky’s side and took his wrists in a hand each. He guided Bucky over to the sink. “Wash. Hands.”

Steve flipped on the water.

“What are you smoking?” Bucky said, getting to the task at hand. He scrubbed at the flour and goop stuck under his nails.

“Bucky,” Steve huffed, his voice dropping. Oh. Well then.

Bucky looked at the man beside him. “Steve,” he said plainly. Steve’s eyes flicked up to his. He was standing pretty close, all jammed up beside Bucky. “Are you _horny?_ Is lil’ Stevie randy? Is that what’s happening here?” He grinned devilishly.

Steve pouted, but his cheeks were all pink.

“I might be,” he grumbled. “Hurry up.”

“Hey, I been workin’ all day too, you know,” Bucky said. He soaped up his hands some more. “And what makes you think I’m even remotely interested?”

“I came here to ride you, you asshole,” Steve said bluntly, making Bucky’s jaw fall open in surprise. “Yeah, you’re gonna dry your hands, sit on a damn kitchen chair, and I’m gonna lube you up and sit on your magnificent cock.”

Bucky’s mouth flapped, eyes wide.

“ _Steven,_ ” he breathed, voice barely audible. “Hell.”

“Oh my god, why are you taking so long?” Steve huffed and pulled at the fly of his uniform pants.

Bucky pushed the faucet to _off_ and picked up a hand towel.

Steve hopped around, trying to get out of his pants. He yanked at his ugly socks, almost falling on his ass. Bucky hurriedly dried his fingers, tossing the towel over his shoulder.

“Here, come on, before you hurt yourself.” He pulled out one of the wooden chairs he kept around the small kitchen table. They rarely ate in here, so the table was just overflowing with miscellaneous crap. A glue gun, a new set of pliers, a sheet of tape with tiny screws stuck to it. He shoved Steve into the chair.

Steve wrestled out of his work shirt.

“So,” Bucky hooked a hand around the back of Steve’s neck. “You wanna…” Bucky scooted in and sat down on Steve’s lap, his own legs bracketing what was a pretty impressive bulge in Steve’s black underwear.

Steve glared up at him. Bucky smiled.

“No,” Steve said, pushing at Bucky’s thighs. “Me ride you.”

Bucky chuckled and shifted closer, “Okay, sure, caveman. You wanna undress me? Put in some work?”

Steve glared harder, but did comply, his fingers flipping up the hem of Bucky’s shirt, getting at his jeans.

Bucky huffed when Steve’s hands were a little rough, bumping his chub. Steve tugged the jeans open. He then kneaded at Bucky’s dick with his palm.

“Oh Jeez,” Bucky gasped, already hot and ready.

Steve pushed at Bucky’s hips, so Bucky complied, awkwardly getting to his feet. Steve stood up, turning Bucky around and shoved him into the wooden chair.

“Hey, Steve,” Bucky grunted, as Steve crouched down and yanked at his jeans, tugging them all the way off. “Hey, come on, slow down.” Bucky’s underwear was summarily removed from his person in one fell swoop. His butt smacked back down on the seat after Steve let him go.

“No, I need to get fucked,” Steve groused, making it sound like a chore to be checked off a list. “I been needing it all day, Buck.”

“Okay, okay,” Bucky said, feeling a little manhandled.

Steve stood up, took off his t-shirt, stretching his arms and chest and _phew!_  Bucky licked his lips, taking in all that real estate. “Damn,” he uttered, already too weak for this shit. Steve’s dick was almost popping free of its confines. Bucky leaned forward and pulled them down. Steve helped, hooking his thumbs into the back of his underwear and pushing them down his smooth, pale, soft legs. The guy had barely any hair, nothing more than fuzz. What he lacked in hair he definitely made up in bulk.

“See, lifting heavy has helped, huh,” Bucky said, eyeing those thick thighs.

Steve ignored him, and pushed him back into the chair.

“We need lube,” he said.

“Um,” Bucky sucked his lips. “I think there’s some on the sofa? From last week?”

Steve sighed. He turned and marched right out of the kitchen, leaving Bucky on the seat with no pants on. He looked down at himself. “It’s okay, pal,” he said to his attention-seeking dick. He figured the t-shirt could go, though, so he pulled it over his head.

Steve stomped back in, almost-empty tube of lube in his fist.

His dick was red and angry-looking.

“Okay, okay, sit,” Bucky sighed.

Steve did as he was told and handed over the lube.

“How ‘bout you get me going,” Bucky murmured, opening the already-broken flip cap. “And I’ll open you up?”

“K, fine,” Steve grumbled.

Bucky squirted the remainder of the lube into Steve’s palm.

He sat back, got comfy and got to work.

 

* * *

 

Steve was panting for it now.

Five minutes was all it took of Bucky fingering him open gently, sliding one finger, then two into him, before Steve was sweating.

Bucky was also vibrating a little, Steve slowly rubbing both fists up and down his hard-as-hell cock. Teamwork.

“Oh God,” Bucky gasped at a particularly squelchy squeeze. “Okay, okay, now, let’s go.”

Steve grinned _finally_ and stood up. He scooted in closer, Bucky adjusting his feet, before sliding Bucky’s dick into place.

“Jesus,” Bucky breathed out hoarsely when Steve hovered, putting both hands on Bucky’s shoulders. Steve paused, then lowered himself.

He groaned deep in his chest and Bucky had to close his eyes.

Fuck, Steve was gorgeous.

The big blonde doofus was sitting on Bucky’s cock like he owned it. Which, well.

“Ohhh, yes,” Steve said deeply once he was sitting on Bucky’s thighs. “Mmmm, been wanting this all day.”

“Really?” Bucky said slowly. He felt sweat gathering at his hairline. He placed a hand on each of Steve’s hips.

“All day, Buck,” Steve groaned, shifting. He grunted, Bucky deep inside him. It felt so fucking good. “Just wanted to come home and sit on your dick. All day.”

“F-fuck,” Bucky breathed, lipping at Steve’s cheek. Steve turned and kissed with purpose, tongue playing, warm and wet inside Bucky’s mouth. He rolled his hips and Bucky gasped.

Steve wasn’t a small guy, so Bucky’s legs had to flex a little to not go numb.

And once Steve got going, lifting up and sliding down again, well.

“Unh!” Bucky grunted into Steve’s mouth. Steve’s ass smacked down on his legs. The chair shuddered beneath them. “Fuck, fuck,” Bucky chanted every time Steve slid down his cock, squeezing. “Oh God, Steve.”

Steve’s dick bobbed between them, leaking. He didn’t seem to mind.

Bucky dug his nails into Steve’s firm, round ass, those tiny hips. Steve whined into their kiss, enjoying it, clearly.

“Come on, baby, ride me,” Bucky said, licking at Steve’s lips. “Fuck yourself on me.”

The kitchen lights were highlighting the edges of Steve’s shoulder and back. Steve’s hands clasped Bucky’s face as he got up on his feet and came down _hard_.

“Ungh,” Bucky almost bit Steve’s lip.

Steve picked himself up again and again, just fucking Bucky senseless. If he was a little rougher than usual, Bucky didn’t mind.

“You.. _.unh_ ,” Bucky said, “You gotta have-have more...unh! Bad _days,_ babe!” his voice warbled for a second.

“I – hate bad _days_ ,” Steve said angrily, sucking at Bucky’s tongue. “MMH!” he moaned, brows furrowing in concentration.

Steve was close, Bucky was sure of it.

So he helped this along. He rolled his hips, shifting his dick deep inside Steve. Steve shivered and moved his hands to the chair back. He slid Bucky out, then back in, aided by the lube and Bucky’s precome.

“You’re making a mess,” Bucky murmured. He could feel the wetness all over his thighs and balls.

“Shut up, you like it,” Steve smiled.

There it was.

Bucky smirked.

Steve fucked himself on Bucky for a few more moments, his breath getting shorter, quicker. It was efficient, effective. Bucky slid one hand between them and looped his fingers into a circle for Steve to fuck into as well. Steve grunted, getting pleasure from both ends and his legs started to shake.

Bucky squeezed Steve tight between his fingers and his own cock responded with a throb deep inside.

“I’m gunna…” Steve panted, going all pink in the face. “Bucky, I’m gunna–”

Bucky slicked his hand up and down Steve’s cock, his other hand flexing on Steve’s ass cheek, fingertips feeling where his cock was embedded in Steve.

“Come on, let it out,” Bucky said, aiming for cool.

Steve pressed his forehead to Bucky’s and slammed down once more, rolling his hips around like he was antsy, on edge.

His cock spurted over Bucky’s fingers and Bucky’s own cock responded in surprise.

“Oh _fuck!_ ” Bucky grunted, hand gripping Steve’s cock tight as he too came.

He was filling Steve up, one of his favorite pastimes.

Steve shuddered and brushed his lips over Bucky’s nose and lips.

A great puddle of come had leaked over Bucky’s hand where it still held Steve.

“Ohhh, I needed that,” Steve said slowly, eyes closed.

“Y-yeah, I see,” Bucky huffed out a laugh. “You sure you’re okay?”

Steve hummed into Bucky’s cheek, curling into him. God, he felt so good, wrapped around Bucky. It was almost _too good_.

Steve’s ass squeezed Bucky.

“Everything makes sense again,” Steve murmured.

Bucky let Steve’s dick go, his wet hand coming up to pat at Steve’s hip. The other hand was still on Steve’s butt, where it liked to be.

“You know, if you need a quickie, you can call,” Bucky said, nuzzling at Steve’s ear. “You don’t gotta throw me down and just have your way.”

Steve sat up. He was frowning. “Oh no…”

Bucky grinned, “I’m not complaining, pal.”

“You were...busy…” Steve said. “And I bothered you.”

Bucky shifted. Steve flushed pink again, obviously feeling Bucky’s come leaking out a little. Oh boy, this was definitely something Bucky liked.

“You wanna just sit like this for a bit?” Bucky said gently.

Steve’s eyes closed for a second and he shifted. “Yeah,” he purred, falling forward to press his chest to Bucky’s. He wrapped both arms around Bucky’s neck, not unlike a squid.

“Mmf,” Bucky humphed. Sure, his legs were going to feel dead any minute. But he could wait.

 

* * *

 

"I like your buns," Nat said the next day, down at St. Paul's. "Not bad."

Bucky eyed her, tired and a little sore still. Natasha grinned around a mouthful of pulled pork slider.

"Why are you even here, you don't believe in Jesus," Bucky said.

Natasha shrugged, standing there in a cute white summer dress and sun hat. "America convinced us we should come."

Bucky shook his head. "That kid, I swear."

Natasha chewed slowly, eyes wandering.

"Why's Steve limping?" she said.

Bucky looked up and over to where the police contingent of the church affair was hanging out. 

"He's not limping," Bucky said.

He turned back to find Natasha grinning. He scowled.

"We're on _church_ property, _woman._ "

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This filth is credited to the inspiring folks over on the discord. Y'all are the best!

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come say hi on Tumblr anyhow. I usually hang out in those parts, fighting for scraps of coherency.


End file.
